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1 day ago
Current Most vaccines take years - and I mean, like, 7-10 is normal - to develop. The vaccines developed didn't poison people and so despite their limited efficacy, they were sent to market years early.
14 days ago
Considering the status bar usually is fairly comforting, it IS a little surprising it's being so unsympathetic. Can't comment on the actual situation, reminds me too much of a past shitty roommate.
2 mos ago
This cannot be happening, on this abandoned and neglected website of all places.
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2 mos ago
@AlternateMan The answer is always more baby dragons.
2 mos ago
As the Borg are not interested in humanity, we are free to keep Space Orc'ing across the universe. Hooray!


I live in the EST time zone. Due to work, unless I think it's important not to leave someone hanging, I will be off by 11 PM. I will rarely post daily, but I can at least guarantee I'll never give you a substance-less post.

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In Pariah 1 day ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Flip waited for what felt like far too long for a response but what could have only been a few seconds. Between his own excitement and the crisis before him, adding in Breakneck already getting someone out, time seemed to slow down, and he figured it would be nice to get Noble approval, but perhaps the best way to do that was to show what he could do. Right, he could do that. Without waiting another second, he ran towards the burning building, pulling up his scarf over his nose - Vanguard #255: The Rise of Vapora had emphasized the importance of covering one’s nose and mouth to reduce smoke inhalation, a far deadlier problem than the flames themselves.

“See you on the flip side!” he called as he entered the building. Honestly, stuff like that was why he had yet to change his name. It wasn’t a name that commanded respect or even hinted to his powers, but it did make for good banter.

Inside was as bad as the outside promised. People were flooding out of the stairwell and Flip quickly got out of their way. The elevator doors had been forced open - he suspected Breakneck had something to do with it. But it was important now to make sure everyone got out. It was times like this he wished for clairvoyance or bioscanning or even receptive telepathy, something so he wouldn’t have to manually search the building. But he had to make do. Start with the top floor, he figured - the smoke might be thickest and the heat worst, but maybe his psychic shield would protect him.

The flood of people had slowed to a more reasonable rate, and Flip slipped past with his small stature. The railing was quicker and easier to avoid people than the steps themselves. His telekinesis quickly tucked the loose ends of his scarf into his jacket. After all, Breakneck 126: Versus The Firebug! had made clear the dangers of loose and dirty clothing in a fire, and while the stairs were not aflame, it was better to be prepared. A few levitation bubbles hastened his ascent without tripping over anyone, and the last flight of stairs was deserted. Trying to open the door showed why: something was blocking the door.

Shoving against it telekinetically a few times finally revealed the problem as the door opened a crack - fiery debris had fallen in front of it. He gave it a telekinetic shove of its own and finally opened the door. Several people stared back at him as he stood frozen for a moment, trying not to gag on the smell of smoke and burning hair. His brain then caught up with him and he quickly moved out of their path, keeping the door open for them. He was not surprised when the people moved as one, rushing onto the flight of stairs away from the fire.

“Hey - excuse me - hey!” Flip’s efforts at communication went unheeded as the scared workers ran by him. He tried not to huff - it’d waste valuable oxygen and just make him look bad. He just wanted to ask if anybody had been left behind. Again, it’d be down to manual searching. Once the people had all begun their trek downstairs, he entered the top floor. He’d felt the heat radiating off the door, but inside was incredibly hot. His shield didn’t seem to be protecting him. Dammit. He soldiered on regardless. The first two doors led into lab spaces - empty but for mouse cages, which made him cringe before carrying on - but the third led into an office space. There was a door inside that, when opened, revealed two employees holding up a third, blocked by a flaming drop ceiling tile. A quick telekinetic shove cleared the path for them, and Flip was grateful they were willing to carry out the third employee. He was starting to feel a touch dizzy. He unzipped his jacket and tied it around his waist, tucking in his scarf to the best of his ability.

The office space led into a (thankfully empty) lab space, which led into a service corridor. He perked up at that - it’d be a much quicker way to check the rest of the floor. Clearing his throat to suppress a cough, he continued searching. How big had that initial crowd been? He knew the size had been decently large - had that been most of the employees? Everyone but those three? He didn’t know much about research labs, but maybe they were smaller than he expected.

It was then he heard the cough.

Well, the coughing fit. It had to have come from one of the open doors along the service corridor. Not Door 1, or 2, or even 3 - and Door Number 4 was the spot. A man in a lab coat appeared to have collapsed. Flip rushed over to him. He was still conscious, though only barely.

“Can you-” Flip coughed and tried to shake the sensation off before he coughed even more. “Can you stand?” It was a bit of a silly question, though he took it as a good sign when the man at least tried before groaning and falling back down. Flip tried to lift him; it didn’t work, but it gave him an idea. He summoned a levitation bubble and pulled the man over it, steadying him with telekinesis. A second bubble under the man’s legs successfully got him off the floor, and Flip ‘pulled’ the man to the fire stairs. The railing was high enough that he could roll the man out under it and use telekinesis to keep him on the bubbles as they gently fell towards the ground floor. Only now did Flip give into the urge to cough, almost doubling over with the force of the action. Ok, the heat and smoke might be getting to him, but he’d only done one floor! Mostly done one floor, even, he still had rooms to check! He caught his breath, adjusted his goggles and scarf, and headed back in to finish searching the top floor.

This was going to be his big introduction to New Haven. He couldn’t let the city down.
@rush99999 Rolled a 7. Picking "Whoever you’re going to is juggling their own problems".

Mitra bowed and waved Paimon and his band of performers off. Once the portal was closed, though, he let out a deep sigh. Paimon could be a lot at times to serve, though this had felt like one of his more restrained visits. So many things to look out for that posed a danger to him and his family - gosh, he just wanted to crawl into bed and fall asleep. But Paimon had given him a mission. Rest and worry would have to wait.

He got up and went back to the kitchen to search the junk drawer - the drawer where things like pens that had made their way to the counter, old super glue tubes, rubber bands that had held tupperware shut but since fulfilled their purpose, all sorts of things that would be dealt with 'later' (and of course, 'later' never happened). Ther, among the mess, was a notepad. He yanked off a sheet, grabbed one of the pens, and hunched over the counter to write.


Sorry I missed you - His Majesty wants me to deliver a message. No idea how long it'll take, so please have dinner without me. I'm headed over to the old dance studio. The one we used to pass on the way to school, remember? I'll be careful, but if I haven't checked in by 11, I'll understand if you call someone. I'll let you know more once I check in.

Also, King Paimon says hello.

♥ Mitra

He placed the note on the table. He didn't like the idea of Paimon saying hello to Ravindra, that's how this whole mess got started, but they'd both be at him if he didn't pass the simple message along.He gave the table one last look-over to ensure he hadn't left any trace of that small package's arrival. The only evidence of its existence was the prey totem in his pocket; he slipped his hand into his pocket to make sure it hadn't fallen out. Ravi didn't need to know, not yet. He checked his other pocket for his phone - decent charge, it was fine - before leaving the apartment, locking up behind him.

His car was no junker, but it also managed to clash with his general style, which was to say, it had none. He'd bought it some years ago despite its canary yellow paint job and swore he was going to get it redone to something metallic or at least neutral. So far, that hadn't happened. It was bulky too, a compromise made at the time for his mother-in-law who worried about insurance rates and safety and sports cars. It hadn't bothered him until after his deal with Paimon, but he had yet to tell anyone he was giving serious thought to trading it in for something flashier and probably less safe.

Mitra got into the car, turned it on, and changed the radio to the local rock n' roll station. Loud music blared from his speakers as he pulled out of his spot and began the trip to the Shakes dance studio.
Speaking of artwork, I was going through some stuff I've purchased over the years, and let me say, can this be Mitra's demon form?
(Note: hidden due to size, eyes, and snake/lizard influences)

I should be getting to work on art of his normal form.

Oh good, Hindi. Mitra was a lot better with the complexities of that tongue. He was not surprised to hear his request dismissed - it was a trivial thing, he supposed, and Paimon clearly had other things on his mind. These things were made clear as he manifested the scroll, which Mitra plucked out of midair. Curiosity bit at him, but he pushed it down to listen to Paimon.

Patience was a virtue, and virtues were in short supply these days. Besides, if he opened the scroll early, he suspected Paimon would know. Just, try to be patient and listen.

Deliver the scroll to - Misty Starbuck? Mitra had to consciously bite his tongue to keep himself from exclaiming his, frankly immature, response to it. Wasn't his business if it was really made up or not and why. He needed to focus on the details instead. Shakes dance studio. He could recall back when it wasn't abandoned and he and Ravi would pass it on the way to school. Nice place. He guessed there were some money issues to make it close down, and someone named Misty Starbuck had claimed it for herself. Honestly, it wasn't painting a good picture. He contemplated asking how old she was, or if she was expecting a man or demon to be delivering the message. But instead, his mouth spoke.

"Thank you, my King. It will be done."

Virtues were in short supplies these days, and patience was no exception.
Skylar had barely begun to catch his breath when Wex strode in, slid on under his arm like it was a limbo competition, and commented on his state. Like he thought he was being witty. And couldn't he have gone around him too? Personal space was not a uniquely human concept, right? Had he been home, he might have flipped the pilot off in response, knowing there was nothing he could really do. The thing was, he was the youngest on board. The rodent guy might have had fewer years, but his race aged differently so that didn't really count. Point was, he was the youngest and that meant whatever he did was viewed through that lens. If they thought he was too much of a child, the best he could hope for was being dismissed and spoken over. The worst, of course, was them kicking him off at a random port but that was probably paranoia, the feeling that any wrong move would get him kicked out. He couldn't afford to act immaturely. As such, all he did was let out a pointed huff in between his panting. Rook, not seeing anything wrong, let out a few beeping chirps that didn't translate into anything in particular.

The doctor arrived shortly after, and the captain started talking. The moment he mentioned 'desert', Skylar's shoulders drooped and his heart sank. Perhaps more than anyone else on board, he was not made to endure the intense sunlight that came with a desert. Hell, back home particularly sunny days were dangerous. He'd gotten bad blistering and oozing sores when he was younger and didn't understand he had to cover up completely. He wasn't looking forward to having to bundle up like he was the Invisible Man. Then there was the fact that deserts tended to come with sandstorms - if they were bad enough, he'd have to leave Beam and Rook onboard for their own good, leaving him rather defenseless against the apparently dangerous local wildlife. Never mind the way that sand could gum up a ship's jets and engine something terrible. It'd be downright necessary to scrub the ship before they left, make sure the sand didn't get anywhere delicate (and Skylar would know, he'd never hear the end of it even). And all to pick up a job the captain knew nothing about? As Skylar caught his breath, he had to admit he was less than happy.

Then Captain Kuro said what the payout would be.

Skylar stood up straight so fast he woke up Beam and startled Rook off its peaceful perch. The bird grumbled as it resettled, while he did the math in his head. It wouldn't matter so much if he got burnt to a crisp on Dedrite, he'd be able to afford some intensive medical care and still have enough left over for several projects' worth of materials.

...not that he didn't trust Rae to take care of him. He just didn't trust the Galatea to have adequate supplies. There was a difference. And not that he intended to go unprotected. Still, who knew how intense the sun would be?

So when the boss asked who was willing to go, Skylar was the first to pipe up. "Gimme, like, half an hour to bundle up, Boss, and I'll be good to go." He glanced around and tacked on, before anyone else could be witty in his general direction, "Trust me, it'll be easier to treat my sunstroke than it will be to treat my sunburns."

Mitra watched exhaustedly as the musicians manifested and lined up and then dropped into a kneel as Paimon's symbol manifested, followed by Paimon himself. He would admit, Paimon did know how to make an entrance. And the demon king was owed some measure of respect. He stood as Paimon came to a stop and kept himself from groaning as Paimon lapsed into his native tongue. On most visits, it was fascinating - Mitra would try to commit the words to memory, and he and Ravi had worked to try to understand the words in English or Hindi, whichever would get them closer to understanding the language. Success was minimal, but it was fun to try. Right now, though, Mitra just could not make himself care.

He cleared his throat as Paimon stopped speaking and responded in the sternest voice he could muster. "King Paimon, speak in my tongue." He had to resist the urge to tack on a 'please' - he'd already learned the hard way that a command and a request were two different things. Though once the command took effect - "Could you please repeat what you said in my tongue?" His smile was tired. "I know I heard my name at the end there, but I didn't fully catch the rest." Was there something about Lucifer? Of course, there was no guarantee Paimon would listen.
"And how about you, lad? You don't strike me as much of a frontiersman. What are you hoping to find out here?"

Jay blinked, opened his mouth to answer, and hesitated. 'Myself', while honest, sounded almost sarcastic compared to the tale Rish told. 'My memories' might make him think he'd be useless. 'The reason I was out here' begged for far more detail that Jay could give at this time. There was one answer left.

"The key to this book." With that, he produced the tome he'd studied in the wagon to no avail. He picked up his pace a bit to show Rish the open book and its odd text. "It's definitely ciphered, but I can't tell if it's written in a common language or something more specialized. The book came from somewhere out here - I think I'll be able to translate it through whatever I find here." It was the best and most detailed answer he could give. He tucked the book back once he was satisfied Rish had seen enough.

He tried to keep the quicker walking pace up as they traveled, a mistake he realized when he focused more on the settlement than the path at his feet and missed a brief dip in the road. Were it not for one of his companions, he likely would've fallen and twisted his ankle. He gave a brief "Thank you" before carrying on, a little slower and more cautiously. The two women had their clothes tear, and Jay wished he'd thought to bring a sewing kit. Burt was getting scratched up too. He could offer the spare set of clothes to makebandages, but that was all he had.

The settlement walls loomed into view and with them came new scents. Wet lumber burning was concerning - had a house caught on fire? Surely people didn't try to burn wet wood. It was still quiet, though. Surely a house burning would raise some kind of alarm. Then came a second smell, both foreign and familiar at the same time. Something raw and meaty burning. His stomach heaved, but he kept down the bile. What worried him was the gate - forced open, not left open. He stepped into the village warily, withdrawing the grimoire once more. He hadn't lied to Rish, he did need to find out how to translate it. But, part of it he had, and he was confident in its power, especially for such a situation like this. If any hostiles were around, he wouldn't be able to kill them, but he might be able to buy time for everyone.
Sorry, I started a new job and it's been kicking my ass. I'll post this weekend, I swear.
Sorry my post is so short. I tried researching the totems, couldn't find anything. If I messed up in my explanation, let me know and I can overhaul my post.
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